


Not So Simple

by abreakfrom_reality



Category: Andromeda Six (Visual Novel)
Genre: Edgeplay, F/M, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:46:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23069449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abreakfrom_reality/pseuds/abreakfrom_reality
Summary: On the hunt for something to soothe her headache, Solange runs into her least favorite person.
Relationships: Calderon Lynch/Traveler
Comments: 4
Kudos: 47





	Not So Simple

She heard voices. One, distinctly male, with an air of authority. The others were much harder to make out, but Solange knew they must be children. She knew these kids…or did she? Her eyes opened, peering up at the dark, a lone tear escaping her eye and running down her cheek. Everyone had warned her, in their own ways, not to push herself or force her memories up to the surface, but Solange refused to heed their advice. She'd rather remember it all, the good and the bad. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she felt a hollow space in her chest, and Solange couldn't help but wonder at the person she was. Or used to be. Was there someone looking for her? Or didn't they care enough to retrieve her? _Could_ they find her if they tried? Solange breathed through the pounding in her skull, sitting up in bed. Her headache was back with a vengeance. A tired hand reached over, grasping at air instead of the pain medicine Ryona had her taken for the past few days. Solange let her hand flop over in defeat.

Days had been spent up in space on the Andromeda Six and she still wasn’t sure whether she trusted the others. She liked them all well enough, though Damon was liable to be strangled in his sleep and she could do without the Captain’s strait-laced demeanor. It would take a lot more than sharp glares and throwing his title around to scare Solange. Bare feet touched down on the cold metal floor and Solange winced, seeking the warmth from her discarded socks. Then again, it would only serve to lull her back to sleep, and Solange knew she wouldn’t sleep easy with the throbbing in her head.

The ship was still a maze to her and walking the halls at night was far from a great idea, but Solange refused to awaken anyone for a late-night tour. Hand braced against the wall for support, Solange slowly inched herself along, swaying on her feet. It was sheer stubbornness that helped her put one foot in front of the other, but that same stubbornness led her straight to the washroom. Solange squinted against the bright light as she flicked the switch, immediately disappointed. “You’ve got to be shitting me…” she groaned turning the lights off. Outside, the door closed behind her and she leaned against the wall for support, catching her second wind. Maybe she could locate the kitchen instead? Solange meant to move forward, but the moment she pushed off the wall, standing was no longer an option. How long she’d been passed out on the floor, she couldn’t say, but the alarm from a familiar stern voice was enough to bring her back to consciousness. She just registered strong arms lifting her. Cracking open her eyes she stared up at her rescuer: Calderon. Her headache was gone, but it was only because it had taken the form of someone else. He ran warm against her, a nice contrast to her cool skin, but that only served to irritate her.

“Put. Me. _Down_ ," Solange growled, watching the captain's concern morph into annoyance. She didn't think his frown could become more severe, but she was wrong. She mimicked his expression. “You want to explain to me what you were doing roaming around in the middle of the night?” Calderon gritted his teeth, easily carrying her to who knew where. “No, I don’t actually,” Solange shot back, attempting to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washed over her, and she fell back in a heap. “We need to get you back to your room,” Calderon warned, his irritation sharp. Solange muttered incoherently, embarrassed and unable to do anything except lay in Calderon's arms and imagine herself someplace far, far away. When she opened her eyes again moments later it wasn’t her room she found herself in. Calderon deposited her on the bed, leaving her alone. Once the shock wore off, the door slid open again, revealing Calderon.

"This isn't my room," she snapped. Calderon rolled his eyes, a glass of water in his hand. He handed it to Solange who blankly stared at it. "Very perceptive, stowaway. Now drink." Solange glared at him. Cal glared right back. "Do you want me to tell Ryona where I found you?” he threatened. Solange took the glass, sloshing the contents around before letting out a sigh. Her rescuer pretended not to notice. “Now, drink this. It’ll help with the dizzy spells.” Solange tipped the glass to her lips, still buzzing with angry energy. The drink was sweet and went down easily, warming her chest and relieving the pressure in her head. The strain in her eyes alleviated as well and it was then that she realized one, the captain was shirtless, and two, she was in nothing _but_ a shirt. Her shred of luck that night seemed to be that it wasn't see-through. But she had a full, unobstructed view of the captain. Her small frame had lain against that chest of his, their skin separated by a thin layer of clothing. And she was _quite_ small. Solange knew she’d never been troubled by her small stature, but every time she was near the captain, she couldn’t help feeling just a smidge intimidated. 

She choked on the silence, squirming when Calderon realized why she said nothing. He smirked. "Feeling better?” It was a sincere question, but Solange narrowed her eyes and turned away, unsubtly yanking the front of her shirt up to cover herself. She was too flustered to trust herself to speak, turning over the image of Calderon's abs and the trail of blonde hair that disappeared beneath the waistband of his pants. Solange itched to reach out and touch, maybe drag her hand down lower. A wildly inappropriate thought seized her brain and her eyes darted to the tented front of his pants before quickly looking away again. _Damn._

“You know, I’m starting to see why Damon carries daggers with him everywhere,” Solange grumbled, chancing another look at the captain. Even sitting on his bed, he towered over her. In fact, the room seemed so much smaller with him in it. Intimate. Heat rushed to her cheeks. She was staring. _Again_. The smart thing would have been to march right out and give him the middle finger, but then he’d win. A small part of her secretly liked whatever game they were playing. Only because she planned to win, or so she told herself. She crossed her arms, cocking her head to the side. “Alright, you got me in bed, congratulations.” Calderon’s expression froze for a fraction of a second before a flustered blush crept over his face. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. “You need to get some rest,” he muttered, but Solange shrugged, sliding off the bed.

In a single motion, she stood in front of him, coming up to his shoulder. She felt him tense up at her touch, her voice no louder than a whisper. "You know, I'm getting _real_ tired of you telling me what to do…sir." She'd addressed him like that before, taking note of the smile of approval he gave whenever she deigned to be respectful. The way her fingers curled on his arm now was anything but respectful. "…Stowaway," Calderon warned, but it had no sense of urgency. In fact, his voice was as low as hers, stirring something deep inside the traveler. He wrapped an arm around her waist, bringing them closer together. "Captain," Solange goaded him, her cleavage brushing against his abdominal. “My ship, my rules,” he continued, sapphire eyes on Solange. _Fuck me,_ Solange thought. “Fuck the rules,” she laughed instead, smooth like silk. “I have a feeling I was never good at following them anyway.” Fingers titled her chin, holding her in place, and Solange knew if the captain looked straight down, he’d have the perfect view of her breasts. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” he countered, bringing her lips to meet his as he bent down.

Electric. That was the word to describe the small spark that led to a much bigger explosion. Solange lifted one leg around Calderon’s torso, allowing him to successfully steal all the oxygen from her lungs as he sank against her plush lips. He easily pulled her leg around him, anchoring her to him as she moved her arms around his neck, lips parted. Calderon took the invitation, sucking sweetly on her bottom lip and making her toes curl. Solange held back the groan that clawed its way up her chest, demanding release. She’d be loud enough to awaken the dead. Calderon deposited her back on his bed, but Solange kept him close, locking her thighs around him. A challenge. She felt rather than heard his low chuckle. Her hair, always kept in a tight bun, finally slipped from its hold, twists fanned across the sheets. His lips found her neck, kissing the delicate skin there, and she threaded her fingers through his blonde strands as she moved against him. Releasing her hold on him, Calderon lifted her shirt, exposing her bare skin to the cold air, though she wasn’t chilled for long. His lips found her left mound, nipple hardening under the flick of his tongue. Breasts heavy and sensitive to the touch, she was caught off guard by the sure fingers that hovered just above her bikini briefs, sensing her welcoming heat. He paused, silently asking for permission, as she nodded once.

It was a testament to Solange's patience, as Calderon didn't delve into her folds immediately, instead, drawing teasing circles against the inside of her thighs. "You are the biggest tease, I fucking swear," Solange rolled her eyes, but with difficulty, as her sex throbbed in anticipation. Finally, his fingers found their intended target, and he drew a digit across her slit. Solange gasped despite herself. A simple movement, but it felt _so_ good.

“What was that?” Calderon asked, rightfully smug as he drew another finger against her wetness. He was rewarded with a low moan from Solange, brown eyes flickering back. He built a rhythm with steady strokes, flicking her clit with his thumb, watching as she clutched the sheets, her chest rising and falling. Her walls clenched around his fingers as she quickly came apart. Solange existed only in that space, where Calderon’s fingers continued their ministrations and she tried her damnest to hold on, despite the mounding pressure that continued to build. In and out in quick motions, opening her up, bringing her so close to her climax. But she couldn’t let go; Calderon wouldn’t let her. Solange was gasping for air now, begging for release. He was toying with her and she was at his complete and utter mercy. And suddenly, she could no longer teeter on that edge

Solange came with a violent shudder, spots in her vision and Calderon’s name on her lips, his efforts dripping from his fingertips as Solange recovered. A whimper took the last of her strength, and she almost didn’t catch what he said. “Wha…what?” The night had finally caught up to her, and sleep called just as sweetly as any lover, making it difficult to concentrate. “I said you’re distracting, you know that?” Calderon repeated, now laying on his side next to Solange. She sat up slowly, bunched up shirt unfurling against her stomach. She did know but never had she expected him to admit it aloud. Chin tucked into her hand, she smiled coyly at him. Before she could gloat, she was cut off by the enormous yawn she let out.

“That sounds like a personal problem,” she tried again, rubbing her eyes, but made no effort to move. She needed to find her way back to her own room. Instead, she found herself rolling into his side, chest pressed against him. If he wanted her to leave, he made no effort to discourage her either. Her muddled brain couldn’t make sense of it, and she gave up, leaving the problem for the morning. The words left her mouth before she could register what she was saying. “You’re just as distracting…”


End file.
